How Like a Winter
by jennyfair
Summary: "How like a winter hath my absence been from thee..." A two part fill-in for the Graveyard scene from the ALW musical. E/C and R/C.
1. Wandering Child

_How like a winter hath my absence been / From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! / What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! / What old December's bareness everywhere! / And yet this time remov'd was summer's time, / The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, / Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime, / Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease: / Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me / But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit; / For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, / And thou away, the very birds are mute; / Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer / That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near. - Sonnet 97, William Shakespeare_

* * *

My father's grave was easy to find in the sea of headstones and monuments of the cemetery. I knew the path well. Following his death, I had spent countless hours here in mourning, speaking to his tomb as if he could hear me. Ivy had crept up the sides of the stone, marking the months since my last visit. I swept away the vines as if brushing hair from his eyes and murmured an apology for allowing his plot to become so overgrown.

I stopped coming here after learning the truth about the Angel of Music. It was too painful to remember how things had once been… But in this moment, amid all the chaos at the Opera, I needed him and the peaceful silence of this place. There were no demands here, no obligations weighing heavily on my shoulders.

Soon enough I fell back into the old rhythm of our one-sided conversation. I asked my father for strength and forgiveness, while forgiving him in turn for filling my head with stories as a child. My thoughts tumbled out until the sun sank low and my limbs grew cold from kneeling on the ground. I could only delay the inevitable for so long. It was time to leave him, for good.

"I love you, Papa, but I can't keep living in the past. I've come to say goodbye." I kissed my fingers and pressed them to the carved letters of his name. After a final prayer I rose and headed back towards the entrance of the graveyard.

"Wandering child...so lost, so helpless."

I stopped but did not turn around, my heart wrenching at the sound of _his_ voice. _How dare he come here? After twisting my father's promise to gain my trust...to deceive me!_

"I am not a child. Any more than you are a ghost, staring at me from the shadows." I shivered, pulling my cloak tighter as if it could shield me from his gaze.

"Some have called me a ghost. _You_ called me by another name, once...or have you forgotten, after all this time?"

My hands clenched into fists as I fought his influence. "I could never forget, _Angel_." I meant it as an accusation, but was surprised at the gentleness in my voice.

"Yet you seek guidance from a stone slab when your Angel is _here_ , Christine." His voice drew nearer, and I could not be sure if his fingers truly brushed against my cloak or if I imagined it. "Ever your faithful guardian."

I understood his unspoken implication - that I had left him, cast him aside. _You drove me away!_ I wanted to shout. His own actions had sent me running from the Opera with Raoul that night months ago. But I remained calm, refusing to rise to his bait.

"What do you want, Erik?" It was a dangerous question, for I already knew the answer. I had heard his _Don Juan_ , seen his vision for our future in the form of a wax figure in a wedding gown…

"To glimpse the Spring, after months of endless Winter." The bitterness he had shown during our brief reunion at the _bal masqué_ was gone, replaced by an aching sadness. I tried to remind myself of all the reasons why I should run from him that instant...but I stayed.

I turned to meet him, and was briefly stunned by the sight of him in the open air. Though he had haunted me all these long months, I had never seen him outside of the Opera. Dripping in black and clutching a staff topped with a skull, he looked every inch the vengeful Angel of Death that Raoul painted him to be. But to me, he could have been one of Odin's ravens, and I felt as though he would find me no matter where in the world I fled.

"Too long you've wandered the world above, my Persephone. I've come to bring you back where you belong."

I drifted towards him, his voice weaving its familiar spell even as my mind cried out that this was a terrible mistake. In spite of everything, I felt the pull of the invisible thread connecting us. "But I _have_ returned," I replied. "I will sing for you again, your own music..."

"Deceit doesn't become you, my dear." Erik's unexpected rebuke snapped me back to reality. "You will sing, but not for _me_. Do you truly think me ignorant of your young man's schemes?" I felt a cold shiver of dread. "You...the ace up his sleeve, as it were."

He used Raoul's words against me, leaving no doubt that he had overheard everything in the managers' office that day. Yet my dread quickly turned to frustration at being placed in the middle of this growing storm. What choice did either of them give me? Agreeing to sing had been the only way to satisfy both Raoul's and Erik's demands of me - a foolish attempt to give each what they wanted despite the danger it spelled for all of us.

"As if I had a say in the matter," I countered, clinging to the spark of defiance that had begun to burn within me. He sneered and seemed poised to make another cutting remark, but I continued. "If you _were_ listening from the walls, you would know that."

His jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, but to my surprise, he remained silent as I spoke my piece. "I did not wish for any of this. Do you think I…" My voice trailed off as I studied the two halves of his face, flesh and porcelain. Unwanted images flooded my brain, of his already twisted features bloodied and broken. "I couldn't bear it." The tiny flame in my chest was extinguished.

"Such sweet words. I could almost believe you."

 _But you must,_ I insisted silently. _Perhaps it is not too late to save us all…_ An idea formed, and I spoke before I could lose my resolve.

"I will sing for you. _Only_ for you, Angel." The word passed my lips without hesitation or malice, and his eyes widened slightly. I closed the remaining distance between us, fingers lacing together in supplication. "I swear it. But you must promise me not to attend the performance. _Please_."

He leaned closer, searching for signs of a lie, but he would find none. The visible side of his face softened. He sighed my name, reaching for me. "Don't," I pleaded, and his hand paused just beside my cheek. "You must let me go. It's the only way."

He cupped the air below my chin, still not making contact but fixing me in place all the same. "Why did you come back?" he asked softly, almost to himself. "You could have run off with your Vicomte. Traded your music for a title and a life of comfortable mediocrity."

My lashes fluttered closed. Raoul had asked me to leave, sworn that he would defy his family's objections to our marriage. But I could not abandon my father's dream for me. I couldn't abandon...

"There is another way, my Angel." His voice clouded my thoughts again. "Come to me." Even as my skin tingled in anticipation of his touch, something within me continued to fight him. I stepped back, eyes opening and hands falling to my sides.

Erik's attention lowered to my scarf. From the shadow that passed over his expression, he understood its significance. I held my breath as the red silk flowed through his fingers, fearing he may snatch it away as he had done with Raoul's ring.

"Still you resist. Our fates are bound by more than childhood memories, Christine." The scarf fell harmlessly from his grip, but his hand remained, palm open towards me. "Your very soul cries out to mine. You cannot deny it forever."

I stared at his hand. In the fading light, it looked deceptively normal. These were the slender, calloused fingers of a musician - not a murderer. When I met his eyes again, they were filled with devotion, yet doubt. I saw the words hanging unspoken on his malformed lips. If he gave them voice, would I continue to deny him? Would I want to?

" _Come to me_."

In another life, he had been my guide, my protector. He could be those things again, and more, if only I would let him. I could see it. Would the darkness be so terrifying, after all, with my strange Angel?

 _God forgive me..._

Our fingertips brushed for a brief instant before everything came crashing down around us.

"For God's sake, let her go!"

My own surprise at the sound of Raoul's voice was mirrored in Erik's expression for only a moment before it turned to stone. "No need to wait for opening night to spring his trap, I see. Your lover is more clever than I gave him credit for," he spat, all warmth gone from his voice. "At least you would spare me the humiliation of a public execution!"

A pit grew in my stomach. "I did not bring him here," I insisted. "You must believe me." I reached for him but he was already drawing away from me, seeking higher ground atop a nearby mausoleum. "Erik, _please_!"

Suddenly Raoul's hands closed over my shoulders, pulling me into his arms. The next few minutes were a blur of angry taunts and fire. Frightened for both men, I put myself between them, tugging at Raoul's coat sleeve and begging him to leave with me. At last he took my hand, allowing me to lead him away to safety. I did not look back.


	2. Bravo, Monsieur

Raoul's carriage came into view as we reached the gates of the cemetery. Behind, I could hear Erik cursing the both of us, his beautiful voice distorted by rage. The driver started to scramble down to assist us but Raoul waved for him to stay at his post. He aided me up the step and followed me in, waiting only long enough for me to be seated before tapping on the roof to signal the driver. The carriage lurched forward and Raoul collapsed onto the bench across from me.

"Christine, are you hurt? If I hadn't arrived when I did…" He lowered the hood of my cloak and smoothed my hair with gloved hands. Perhaps I should have thanked him for his care and concern. Instead, I asked how he knew where to find me, still attempting to untangle my feelings about what had just occurred.

"Meg told me that you seemed distraught and left rehearsal early. I suspected you might come here. _Dieu merci_..."

He brushed my cheek with his knuckles and I shied away, feeling smothered. As he pulled back I saw the hurt in his eyes and felt a pang of sympathy. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Raoul," I offered, squeezing his elbow apologetically.

"It was foolish to go alone," he chided. "He found you, just as you feared he would."

"He didn't hurt me. He could have taken me away by force, but he didn't…" _He wants me to choose_ , I added silently.

"And I'm glad of it!" he interrupted, shrugging off my hand. "But he was more than prepared to _kill me_!" I stammered, unsure of what to say, and he let out an exasperated sigh.

"Please help me understand, Christine." He tossed aside his hat to run a hand through his hair, voice growing strangely calm. "Not long ago you were nearly faint with terror at the thought of him carrying you off. But I saw you. The two of you, together. You looked at him as if he were your father risen from the grave! Or something else entirely..."

A hot flush crept up the side of my neck and I crossed my arms, not wanting to hear what would come next. "What are you trying to say, Raoul?"

"Oh, you've told me you do not hate him, but now I see the truth. You _want_ him to take you away." I willed him to stop, but he pressed on. "Why else would you hide my ring? Or sing his infernal music, after refusing so fiercely?"

Raoul had never spoken to me this way before, and it felt as if he had struck me. I lashed out, selfishly seeking to return blow for blow.

"If anyone wants me to go back there, it's you!" He started to object but I held up a hand to stop him. "Why would I sing? Wasn't that exactly your plan, to offer me up as a lamb to the slaughter?" My eyes were stinging, and when he reached for me this time, I did not resist. I felt so weary and welcomed the comfort he offered.

"Forgive me." I sensed his anger dissipating as he moved to sit beside me and gently brushed away a tear. "If there were another way…" he murmured, unknowingly echoing Erik's earlier words. My head settled in the crook of his neck as his arms folded around me. "What if we didn't wait for the première?" he proposed, even though we both knew it was impossible. "We could leave in a few days - go back to the sea, or to Sweden. It may take time, but the Sûreté will find him eventually." I weighed my next words carefully.

"To sing is to condemn him, and still...I feel it would be cruel _not_ to sing." I heard Raoul's sharp intake of breath and pulled back to meet his gaze, taking his dear face in my hands. I would keep my promise to both men as well as I could, and only pray that Erik would heed my warning. "Whatever happens, I must sing for him. One last time."

"You owe him nothing, Christine. Yes, he was your teacher, once. But that doesn't matter now. Everything has changed. You understand that, don't you?"

I shook my head in an attempt to clarify my muddled thoughts. "Please, Raoul, do not ask me to explain. I don't think that I could. But I can say this this for certain - I love you. You mustn't doubt that." Yet even as I drew him closer to reassure him with my lips, I saw the flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

 _God save us all_.

* * *

 _A/N: Christine and Raoul's dialogue here was inspired (clearly) by Chapter XII/Apollo's Lyre from Leroux._


End file.
